As the World Goes By
by mktoddsparky
Summary: /"Please," she breathes, like a prayer. "Take me home." She looks at him. They share a thousand words in a single glance, as it's always been./ Or, Elena finally makes her choice. Mature audiences only.


**A**s the **W**orld **G**oes **B**y

..

a one-shot

..

**a/n: **I wanted to post this before 3x22, because no matter what happens, this is the image I'll have in my head. This story was inspired by Fifteen Minutes by Robbie Nevil (the promo song for 3x22.)

..

_I_ don't know who made the rules,

_b_ut they're wrong,

_a_lways them- never us.

_T_ell me,

_w_hen do we get what we got coming?

_I_ want my fifteen minutes of fame.

..

"How are you feeling?" Damon asks her.

Elena hates how kind he's being, after everything. It's not like she actually deserves him, especially after she practically told him that he was an idiot for caring about her.

"Fine."

"Obviously you're not fine." Damon pauses on the front lawn of Klaus' manor and gestures at the way she's clutching her head.

Elena takes a deep breath and feels her chest rattle with it. Her fingers tremble against her ashen forehead and it takes everything within her not to fall over right there. But it would only make Damon freak out and treat her more like a Barbie doll. She doesn't need that, doesn't_ want_ it.

"I just lost a little blood," Elena murmers, shuddering as she thinks of the vervain-soaked gag being tied around Caroline's face, how the sound of sizzling flesh had filled the classroom. The row of perfectly trimmed oak trees to their left suddenly begin to wobble in her vision and her stomach flips on itself. Vomit bunches in the back of her throat and she tries to envision rainbows and unicorns and hugging her parents, anything happy. "Honestly, I didn't get the worst of it. You guys should be checking up on Caroline."

"Caroline is a vampire," Damon says. She knows he's serious because he didn't call Caroline _blondie. _"You're human."

"Thanks for confirming that," Elena responds wryly, managing a smile. "I was beginning to have second thoughts."

"Very funny." Damon smiles back at her, as though he can't help it. The dying rays of the sun flicker across his face, illuminating each crevice. It makes his blue eyes sparkle kind of beautifully. "If it makes you feel any better, Tyler said he was going to check up on her right after they...um...finished up here."

Elena nearly wraps her arms around herself, then remembers that it only makes her look aloof. It wouldn't be nice to damage Damon's poor heart anymore, she decides, letting them hang free. The fingers of her left hand brush his warm skin and she jumps. His face softens.

"Should I feel bad about them killing Klaus?" Elena asks the dark-haired vampire, desperate to change the subject. She stumbles over her own feet and Damon's hand presses against her waist, keeping her upright. It tickles, sends a burning feeling down into her groin area that she tries to ignore and fails.

"No," says Damon. "And you didn't kill Klaus. _We_ did. But you'll feel bad anyways, because that's just you."

_That's just you_. He sounds like he knows her so well. But then again, ever since Stefan went off with Klaus, she and Damon have been growing closer and closer. It surprises her to realize that she can't imagine her life without Damon in it.

She trips again, and curses her weak legs. "How far is it to the car?"

"Do you want me to carry you?" Damon offers.

He's just being kind, but Elena doesn't think she can handle being in his arms right now. She might do things she'd feel guilty about later.

"No, I'm okay," Elena replies quickly, smiling at him reassuringly. They walk in content silence for a bit, until something begins nagging at Elena's thoughts. "Do you think that I would make my parents proud if they were here?" she asks Damon, trying not to sound bothered by the question.

His brow furrows. "I thought you'd already been through this," he mumbles. "Matt told you on the bridge that your parents would have been proud of you."

"Wait, how do _you_ know what happened on the bridge?" Elena asks suspiciously.

Damon shrugs, "You know humans. Always blabbing away." A slight blush appears on his cheeks and she smirks in delight when she sees it.

"Okay," Elena says, drawing out the word as she shakes her head. The motion makes her head spin all the more and she grunts. "But what do you think?"

"Think about what?"

"Would my parents be proud of me?"

"Who's parents," Damon teases.

"Mine," Elena snaps, pausing as her knees begin to buckle. She leans a hand on Damon's broad shoulder for support. They stand at the edge of the lawn and watch the sun slowly dip behind the craggy hilltops. It looks beautiful, as always, but it only encourages the night to bleed in, along with alsomel of the haunting things that want to either drain her blood or snap her neck. "Damon, be serious."

"Me?" Damon asks, grinning cockily. "Serious?" But he clears his throat when her expression remains serious. "I think that you've managed to cling to your humanity even after everything that has happened to you. Sure, you throw a few tantrums, but who doesn't?" She swats at him. He catches her hand and she inhales sharply, so he lets it go. His eyes bore into hers, icy, brilliant. "If your parents were here, they would tell you how strong you've been. They'd be immensely proud of you, Elena."

She takes a breath. It's shaky. Her eyes tear up a little and she blinks the drops away with an embarrassed chuckle. "Thank you. I know I'm insecure about it. Alaric just said-"

"That's not Ric in there," Damon reminds her.

Elena sighs, "Whatever darkness that is inhabiting Ric told me that there's no way in hell my parents would be proud of me. I guess I just got hurt."

Damon's fingers slide to cup her waist. Elena freezes, shivering as his fingertips creep up her waist, shoulders, and into her hair. Finally they come to rest on the sides of her face, cupping it in between his calloused palms. "Don't let anyone try to bring you down, Elena. You're so pure."

Tears glaze over her eyes again and she leans into his right hand. "If I'm so pure," Elena begins quietly, "then why am I-"

She breaks off, flushing. When she meets his inquisitive gaze again, fear flashes through her, strong, real. _You can't_, she tells herself. _You have to keep it to yourself. If you don't, you'll have to choose one of them and you'll lose the other. You can't._ The thought of losing one of them hurts too much to even consider.

"What, Elena?" Damon asks, eyes dimming a little.

She can't keep it from him. He probably thinks she's going to tell him that's she's going back to Stefan. He looks as if he is steeling himself for the punch in the gut the news will give him. _I owe it to him. _

"If I'm so pure," Elena begins again, sucking in a deep breath, "then why am I in love with a vampire?"

Damon flinches, but he doesn't move away from her as she'd expected that he would. Instead he leans closer to her, parting her hair with his thumbs. His breath ghosts across her exposed collarbone and she tries to breathe. He really has no idea what his damn presence does to her.

"I know that you-" Damon breaks off with a scowl. His hands tighten, though not painfully so. His eyes beg her for something. "Just give me one night, Elena. That's all I'm asking. I know that you and my brother have this fantastic history, but I just want a _chance_." His forehead presses against hers. She can see his lips quivering. "If it doesn't - if you can't make yourself love me, then go ahead, okay?" Damon's face closes off and she hates it. _Please don't. _"If it doesn't work, then you can ride off into the sunset with my little brother and I'll just leave town, because I can't sit around here and watch you love him after everything we've been through."

He breaks off, breathing heavily. Elena's mouth hangs open. Her mind is buzzing; it's like she is unable to think.

"Damon, I-"

Damon releases her face and takes a step away, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere but here. The thought of him going and finding some girl to take home to his bed sends jealousy flaring through her. She hates when he returns to those old habits. He's so much better than it all, and he won't let anyone see it.

"Just go, Elena," Damon mutters. He looks tired.

"Damon," she says again. "Damon, please."

"What?" he snaps.

She rushes forward, completely unaware of everything that's happening, and crushes her lips against his. She knows that this really wasn't what Damon was asking for, but this is her only way of showing him what she secretly wants, the burning desire deep inside of her. Knotting her fingers into his thick black hair, Elena pulls him closer to her, around her, against her. Their lips brush and then his mouth captures hers brutally. One of his hands swallows her waist and the other one brushes the sensitive spot on the side of her neck, feeling for her pulse.

"Elena, what-"

"Take me home," she pants, groaning as his lips descend upon her neck, teeth nipping and bruising, claiming her.

"Elena-"

"Please, Damon," she breathes, like a prayer. "Take me home." She looks at him. They share a thousand words in a single glance, as it's always been. She and Stefan could never speak so much with so little. She always had to spell everything out for him, but she loved him all the same.

He gathers her in his arms. It feels like they're flying.

..

She expects him to throw her on his bed, but he lies her down gently. Ripping his shirt over, he scrambles on top of her and begins kissing every spare inch of skin he can find. Elena gasps, fisting the covers beneath her. _No, you can't_, the side of her loyal to Stefan hisses. _Stefan loves you, and you're doing this with Damon. What the hell is wrong with you?_

Damon's fingers slip beneath the bottom of her long-sleeved, blood stained shirt and lift it up over her head. Unconsciously, her hands go down to cover herself. No one has seen her since Stefan. It seems second nature to protect her body. But her hands cup his, unyielding, and a surge of pleasure rushes through her as he pulls her arms up, kissing the peak of her cleavage. She wonders why she had to wear the oldest bra in her nightstand, why she had to choose the bra that makes her boobs look smushed and weird, why her panties are riding up underneath her jeans.

"Damon-" she chokes.

"You're so beautiful," he answers, kissing her once, twice, hard and then soft.

_There's nothing wrong with me. I love him._ It's the first time she's actually allowed herself to think it.

Damon reaches behind and unclasps the back of her bra, but doesn't attempt to pull it off just yet. Instead he continues to kiss her lips, nose, chin, collarbone, sending sparks flying through her. Elena sighs happily, letting herself get swept away in mere feeling. She's so tired of thinking. All she wants is to feel his lips marking her, his heart beating against hers.

Her pants come off. His follow shortly. The hard muscles of his abdomen ripple as he continues to kiss every part of her. For a second, he uses a hand to play with the edge of her panties. Elena gasps against his mouth and lurches off the bed without meaning to.

"Sorry," she whispers.

He chuckles, "Don't be."

"Don't look so smug," Elena retorts.

Damon gives her a blazing look. "Are we really doing this right now?" he asks.

She shrugs, suddenly realizing how little clothing both of them are wearing. A blush stains her cheeks. "Are we really doing this right now?" she asks quietly, her voice reverberating in the tiny space between their bodies.

"Only if you want to," he says.

Elena touches his face, the corner of his lips, and her heart pounds. She loves him so much. God, she loves him. There isn't any option of saying _no_. Not now, not ever. Not now that they're here in each others' arms with his hot desire pressing into the center of her striped panties. She inhales and exhales, feeling like an idiot for being so flushed.

"Of course I want to," Elena answers.

Damon's face lights up and he kisses her again. She squirms underneath him, her heart full to bursting. More clothes disappear and Elena can't make herself look down. They're completely naked, pressed against each other, and she feels far too vulnerable. But not enough to stop. It's Damon. It's Damon, with all of his quirky imperfections.

"Damon," she whispers, feeling herself choke up. "Am I beautiful?"

He pauses, looks down at her with such adoration on his face that it's almost uncomfortable. Elena wonders why he hasn't left yet, especially how horribly she's treated him. "You're so beautiful," he answers, stroking her hair back. "Are you ready?"

She nods, tears budding in her eyes. They escape without her permission. "I'm sorry, Damon," she chokes out, feeling stupid. "I'm really sorry."

"What's wrong?" Damon asks. He goes to roll off of her, but Elena locks her arms around his neck, holding him there.

"I'm sorry for making you hurt so much," she continues, trying so hard not to break apart. More tears come anyways, damn them. Damn Damon for turning her into this person who can deal with everything and nothing.

"Elena, what-" he starts, looking confused.

"I love you," she blurts out through her tears before she can lose the nerve. Then she kisses him again.

He doesn't ask her if she means it. He simply reaches down between them, mouth smiling against her own. "Are you ready?" he whispers huskily into her ear.

Elena nods, trembling, knowing that she won't be able to control her voice. "I love you," she says again, hugging him tightly and pressing their lips together.

Every bone in her body ignites. She feels like she's on fire.

..

He's sleeping, one arm draped over her waist, sending tingles racing up and down her spine. Elena tangles their fingers together and gives the room a sleepy glance. She can't sleep, doesn't understand how Damon can knock out after what they just did.

_There's no going back now_, she thinks, stroking his thumb with her own.

Because the fact of the matter is, Elena thinks that she's always going to love Stefan Salvatore. He was the first man she'd ever loved and if she forgot that, there would be something wrong with her. But she loves him. Just loves him. Damon is so incredibly different. She doesn't just love him. She's in love with him. It's going to suck to tell Stefan that she's chosen his brother, but she'll deal with that in a little while.

All that matters is that she's made her choice. She's chosen the one who never thought someone would be able to love him back. She's chosen the one who claims to be a monster with no feelings, no heart. She's chosen the one who makes her feel alive.

Damon's lips press into the back of her neck. He lets out a rattling snore, continuing to sleep.

"You're so much more than you think," she tells his slumbering form.

Outside, leaves fall from trees. Cars cut each other off. Life passes by. A hint of sunlight catches the window frame.

..

fin

**..**


End file.
